Moonlight
by Hider
Summary: Remember me when you're out walking, late at night when when you're not sleeping, and moonlight falls across your floor, when I can't hurt you anymore... Rory POV. Lit. Future fic. No spoilers.


This isn't my first fic by far but it is my first Lit, even though they are my OTP. I've just never been happy enough with anything I wrote between them to post it, so any reviews or opinions are really appreciated :)

* * *

** Moonlight**

_Remember me when you're out walking, late at night when when you're not sleeping, and moonlight falls across your floor, when I can't hurt you anymore..._

She lays awake most nights and feels the cool air breeze through the window and rustle the curtains against their frame. The worn cotton of her bedspread conforms to her body and the pillowcase is warm against her cheek and she finds its harder for her mind to find comfort then her body. Because her body aches for sleep, a deep sleep that swallows you whole.

Rory Gilmore dreams of deep sleeps without dreams. The kind only the morning sun can really bring you out of. It's been a long time since she's slept like that and she misses it like she misses sleeping alone.

He likes thick blankets and sleeps with them neatly wrapped around him. He likes warmth and flannel. She likes cotton and the cold side of the pillow.

He shuts the window every night before he slips in between the sheets and she lays on her side with her eyes open and stares out through the smudged glass as he shifts slightly and eventually falls asleep. She envies his sleep, the kind that her movement can't wake him from. Her side of the bed creaks and she long ago stopped trying to keep the covers still. He sleeps right through the pushing back of them anyway. And then right through her footsteps that stick on the wood floor on their way through the moonlight. They stick like the window, thats had one too many coats of paint. It sticks if she dosen't push it from the bottom but when she opens it, she feels closer to the moon and that makes the nights more bareable somehow.

She hates the nights the moon dosen't shine and her feet walk on darkness across the floor. Because that's all there is, darkness. And the nights without shadows are the hardest to get through.

Those are the nights that she pushes the window up from the top and lets it creak all the way up. The nights she walks briskly back across the floor and sits down easily, fumbling with the covers and flipping and adjusting her pillow until it meets her satisfaction. She makes noise because the silence scares her almost more then the darkness and his calm and steady breathing does nothing to settle her nerves.

Night time is the time to remember past loves and past lives and a time that has long since passed. That's what she heard once, in a book or a in a movie, something or other. She dosen't rememeber the source but she remembers the words and thats enough to do the damage.

Because she remembers him at night sometimes, when she lays there and the moon is or isn't out. She can see his face when she closes her eyes and sometimes she wonders if thats the normal thing to be doing, remembering someone you weren't suppose to love anymore, someone you pushed away.

And she was the one who pushed him away. She was the one who was at fault.

Rory Gilmore was the town princess who was pretty and perfect and never told a lie. She was suppose to be naive and forgiving. Compassionate.

She wasn't.

Because everyone's human and no one's perfect but after you play the part for so long you start to think that maybe people should be.

Her expectations rose fast and eventually settled in a place higher then what most people can give, especially broken boys who knew her better then most.

His attitude was his defense mechanism and he used it to his advantage. He was open about who he was, flaunted his flaws, and was the only person to ever look her in the eye and see the truth.

He saw what was hidden under the straight A's and perfect manners. He saw the lies and burdens she carried and he made her feel like it was okay to lie once in a while, especially when it was to yourself.

The only problem came when she told her biggest lie, where she told herself she really was who she pretended to be and got up on her high horse and stopped handing out forgiveness and compassion to someone she told herself didn't deserve it.

She told herself he was in the wrong. He was the one who left. He was the one who broke her heart. She gave herself justification to make him the bad guy.

He pushed her away when he left so she pushed him harder when he came back. And when he held on, she pushed him down before she pushed him away again and eventually, she changed so much that there was nothing left for him to hold on to anymore.

The nights Logan is gone on business trips and she has the bed to herself are the ones where she's the quietest. Those are the only nights she tiptoes and slides the window open inch by inch, waiting for something, anything. It never comes but still she waits.

She waits in front of the window and watches the moonlight on the sidewalk below. She sits and stares and her mind drifts off to the past lives and past loves and the boy she misses the most.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'd love if you'd review :) 

Oh and pimping round one of the Walk Away Awards, an awards site for just Literati fanfiction! The link is in my bio so go check it out and nominate your own fic or your favorite authors!


End file.
